Not Alone
by AFandomofmanyFaces
Summary: Martha is a girl trying to survive on her own, and her sister has left her. What happens when she finds out what really happened to her sister, and can she live with the decisions she has to make for both of their safety?
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Peter Pan or any of the characters in the book/movie.**

* * *

She curled up in a ball, tears dripping off the end of her nose, squeezing them out of her eyes every time she blinked, trying to keep them in, but failing miserably. Her muffled sobs were not heard by her parents, for she had none. They had either died or left her, but she had lived at an orphanage for most of her life, until when she was 13, she realized she could find more food and love on her own than the caretakers at the orphanage ever gave her. So she left. The London streets were cold and drab, but at least she wasn't locked up, forced to work for the two bowls of gruel and the thin, watery soup she received each day. Water was rationed out strictly, and she never had lost the itchy, scratchy sensation that made her cough every time she swallowed. She couldn't imagine life getting any worse than at the orphanage.

But it had.

* * *

 _"Martha?"_

 _God, she hated that name. Martha. It was so plain and ordinary. Just like the rest of the orphanage. There was no note when she and her twin sister had arrived at the orphanage as babies, so the nurses decided to name the girls themselves. They chose Martha and Magdalen, but everyone called her Maggie for short. As luck would have it, her_ sister _got the pretty name._

 _"M_ _arthaaaa?" My sister whined a little more this time. Martha groaned and rolled over on her cot, the thin blanket barely keeping back the chills._

 _"What is it, Maggie?" She tried to wipe the sleep from her eyes, but she found herself drifting back to the black nothingness that made her life worth living._

 _"Tell me about Mamma."_

 _Magdalen knew that she and Martha were twins, but Martha had managed to convince her sister that she had faint recollections of their dear, sweet mother. In Martha's honest opinion, she felt her parents had to be bastards, considering the fact that they were left on the god-forsaken door of the poorest orphanage in London. Who cares if it were_ _the only one? The poorest parents could take better care of them than this place could. But Martha would never allow her sister to think or speak badly of their parents. They needed hope, and hope that their mother had been a wonderful lady was the only hope they had at this point in their lives._

 _"Oh, Maggie, Momma was the sweetest mother a girl could ever have. She would tuck us in at night, running around making sure the pillows were fluffed just right, and kissing us on the forehead before turning off the lights. Sometimes, she would tell us bedtime stories."_

 _"What were the stories about?" Magdalen interrupted. Martha ignored that and continued._

 _"They were such lovely stories. Stories of pirates and little girls and boys who didn't have to work, but got to learn to read and write and after school were able to sit at a table with wonderful food their momma and poppa made for them. There were mermaids and sailors and fairies. It was absolutely magical."_

 _She turned over in her cot again, and the creaking covered her sister's snoring, but she heard it once she got settled. Smiling, she snuggled as much as she could into her concrete mattress and tried to fall asleep. Several hours later, she succeeded._

* * *

The sky was grey and cloudy before Martha decided to heave her aching body out of the gutter. Leaves stuck to her clothing, but she was too tired and groggy to try to brush them off. She wished she could remember what happened, but the last thing she remembered was her head hitting the Commons lawn, the biggest park in London. Unfortunately, how she got so high up in the air to get a concussion from falling, she could not remember.

Her stomach growled, and Martha clutched it, trying to ease the pain. She hadn't eaten for 12 hours, and her body was letting her know. She found a garbage can and decided to jump in. Leafing through the newspapers and moldy greens, she eventually landed a brown apple core that someone had obviously thought was too bitter for them to eat. Taking a bite, she almost spit it out, it was so mushy, but she was too hungry to waste any sort of nourishment.

After finishing the apple, she stood up to get out of the bin. It was about five feet to the top of the bin, and then three feet on the other side to the box which she climbed up to begin with to get into the trash can. She needed a boost.

"Maggie!" She called out before she could remember the fact that Maggie wasn't with her anymore. Maggie always helped her out of the huge trash bins. It's kind of why she left, actually...

* * *

 _Martha was dumpster diving for the fifteenth time that day, but she couldn't seem to find anything that would be of any sustainable nourishment. When she resurfaced, Magdalen had a hopeful look in her eye, which died as soon as she saw Martha come up empty handed._

 _"Martha, I'm starving here," Maggie whined. She looked like she was_ _about to cry._

 _"Do you think I'm full? Why don't you go into the trash for a change?" Martha huffed as she wriggled up out of the bin, and picked up the loot that they had managed to find, namely a juice box filled with backwash and a melon rind. She had heard somewhere that those were poisonous, but at this stage in the game, she wasn't sure she cared._

 _"At least at the orphanage, we had regular meals." Magdalen sounded bitter._

 _"_ Excuse me _?" Martha stopped to stare at her sister. "At the orphanage, we had nothing. Nothing! I helped us escape a cage of entrapment and helped us gain at least a path to something of a future-"_

 _"A future?" Maggie scoffed. "What future? Digging through garbage cans? Eating old melon rinds and juice boxes?"_

 _"Well, technically, you_ drink _the juice boxes..."  
_

 _"IT DOESN'T MATTER, MARTHA!" Maggie shouted. Tears were flowing down her face. "I'm done," she whispered._

 _"I was just kidding-wait, what?" Martha stood in shock. "Maggie." She couldn't believe after all these months of surviving together, much less all those years living together, her sister would run off like this. "Maggie, don't go."_ Martha felt tears flowing down her face. It didn't help that it now started to rain, the drops mingling with the tears on her face.

"Maybe once you figure out how to survive on enough food for more than one, I'll come back."

"You're almost sixteen; they'll either kick you out or marry you off!" Martha saw a flicker of fear in Maggie's eyes, but it was soon replaced with resolution.

"At least I'll be fed." And with those words, Magdalen was gone.

* * *

 **Thank you DOCTORSINTHETARDIS for your review. Please, guys, go and read their first fanfic, Beneath the Skin (Rise of the Guardians), and welcome this wonderful writer into the family! Also SweetToothForLife left a lovely review, so please go read her fanfic May the King Fall. It is so riveting!**


	2. Chapter 2

Martha snapped out of her daydream at the sound of boots clicking on the rough cobblestone alleyway. Instinctively, she hunched down behind the wall of the trash bin, trying not to be seen by what could possibly be a passing bobby. But she was too late.

"Well 'ello there, Missy, lost are ya?" The officer was rather rotund and smelled of cigar smoke, but overall he seemed a nice gentleman, and Martha decided that she could trust him with more information than she normally gave out.

"Sir," she pleaded, her large brown eyes upraised to meet his gaze, "I was playing with my friends, and I was climbing this box, and I accidentally fell in to it. My friends ran off to get some help." _Please let this work, please let this work,_ she prayed to whoever might be listening. She didn't really believe in God or a god, since He didn't seem to have ever been there for her, but she always prayed when caught in a tight situation, just in case.

"Young lady, this is a dead end street, and I've been patrolling Fifth-third avenue all morning. I didn't see any lads or lasses come running out of this alley." His eyes narrowed, looking Martha up and down.

She gulped.

"Yeah, uh, they didn't run, they must've left when you had your back turned, 'cause they definitely went for help." Martha nodded her head emphatically. "Mhm, yep, they _definitely_ did."

The bobby scooped Martha up and set her on the ground. She didn't even bother picking up the trash that could very well serve as her dinner for the night. Giving one last fearful look at the police man, she tore off like a jet, thankful her petticoat had torn up to her knees, making it easy to run.

"Young lady, wait!" The bobby yelled at Martha and made chase, but since Martha was rather used to running, and the policeman was rather rotund and very much used to full meals, she lost him after a few minutes of scurrying down side streets and dark alleys.

* * *

Martha ducked her head as she entered the small, drafty shelter she called home. She and Maggie had made it when Maggie realized that enough pallets stacked together and covered with an old tarp made a nice home. That is, until lice showed up in their hair the next morning. They were both shorn by noon, but the upside was that they had a nice bonfire that evening, a rare treat. Maggie had managed to beg the baker's wife for some matches without too much questioning ensuing, but they still left their campsite the next morning in case an investigator came snooping around. They made a new pallet home, without the blanket this time, and were still living in it when Maggie decided to head back to the orphanage.

Martha went and curled up in the coat she now used as a blanket in the far left corner of the room. She tried not to use it unless absolutely necessary; she wanted it to last as long as possible since she had no clue when she would next have anything resembling a blanket. The jacket was a gift from the nuns at the nunnery across the road that they gave once a year around Christmastime. Martha realized with a fallen heart that she would not get a coat this Christmas, and hoped that she could find a job sometime between now and next winter.

Rain started to drip down the roof that her pallet structure was under, but thankfully it was soft enough where it wasn't able to penetrate through the small slits in the pallets. She tried to remember the lullaby her mother would sing to her every night, but she had trouble remembering the words. Maggie was the one with the memory.

 _You idiot_ , Martha reprimanded herself. _Neither of you have any idea_ _what mama used to sing to you._ As the rain started to come down in sheets, it began to leak through the pallets, and Martha's tears mingled with the rain on the cold, stone floor as she slowly relaxed enough to fall asleep.

The next morning, Martha woke up with a slight chill from the rain, but nothing too serious. She could fight off a cold; colds were doable. She decided to indulge herself today and wrapped her coat around her shoulders and she went out to face the nippy morning air.

The morning was brilliant. Martha guessed it had to be close to 7 in the morning, and the last bit of the sunrise was left scattered throughout the sky. Reds and pinks blended with a pale, baby blue. It almost looked like one of the paintings she had seen when she was a maid for a wealthy patron of the orphanage. She had been boxed on her ear for spending too much time dawdling, but the picture was so pretty it was worth it.

Martha trudged along, staring at the sky and trying to look like she had somewhere specific to be, instead of loitering in the park like the homeless orphan she actually was. A piece of metal by a park bench caught her eye, and she scooped it up in her hand. Gasping, she realized it was a thimble. Upon closer inspection, she saw the initials M.R. on them.

 _No, it couldn't be._ Martha put the thimble in her pocket. _But it looks exactly like the one she was given._ Maggie had been given a thimble by one of the nuns, but she was young enough at the time that she was convinced when she was older that the thimble had been her mother's. So, she carved her initials, Maggie Rembrend, into the thimble, and never parted with it, even in sleep.

 _It's odd that she should lose it now. Perhaps her pocket has a hole in it finally._ Martha knew that her sister would end up missing her precious possession soon enough, but returning it would mean returning to the orphanage. They'd never let her leave once they found her. Maybe she could set it on a windowsill. Surely someone would find it and inquire around as to who it belonged too. That way, her sister would get back her thimble, and Martha could keep her freedom. With that plan in mind, Martha made her way across town, trying to shake the nagging fear that was pulling her in the back of her mind.

* * *

 **Thank you all for your support. Hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy making it.**


	3. Chapter 3

Martha's steps quickened when she saw the shadows of St. Horatio's Orphanage looming over her like a solemn vow she didn't mean to make. She was already starting to doubt her decision about whether or not she should even step onto the grounds. She didn't have proof, but a place like Horatio's had to have spies on the inside, ready to rat out on anybody. She wore her jacket to cover up her shabby clothes, but everyone at that place knew her; there was no way she wouldn't be recognized.

 _Ok, just take a deep breath, and set this damn thing on the windowsill._ The window was only fifty feet away, but the yard was clear and there were windows looking out onto the rolling green grass that ended abruptly at the pavement that made up Kind Avenue. The name of that road was ironic, but she really didn't have time to dwell on those details at the moment.

 _Let's do this._ She hid behind the hedge that lined the cobblestone pathway up the front door, and crawled/hobbled up to the wall. She gingerly let her had trail against the bricks as she made her way closer and closer to the window that would allow her to break the last tie that she had with her sister.

Finally, she was under the windowsill, and she somehow had managed to get there without one of the nurses in the building or the nuns from the church across the street seeing her. _The nuns may be religious_ , Martha shuddered, _but they will stab you in the back if their conscience allows it._ Reaching up, trying not to let her head clear the sill, she set the thimble down and crawled along the wall until she reached the end of the bricks. Throwing caution to the wind, she bolted towards hedges lining the gate and found the hole that she and Maggie had found that allowed them their freedom. Thankfully, being underfed had its advantages, and she was still able to squeeze through the bars even though the maintenance man had made a haphazard job at repairing it.

She rushed down the street, not allowing herself even a few seconds to catch her breath for fear that even now someone would call the alarm and she would be sent back to that awful place. The only thing good that could come from that would be that she would be with her sister, but her sister had already made it very clear her feelings towards Martha, and if they were reunited under such circumstances, it would just be extremely awkward.

Martha finally reached her hideout, and cowering beneath the boards, she wheezed and gasped for breath. _Never again,_ she thought to herself as she peeked nervously about, trying to gauge if any bobbies were after her, _never again will I put myself in danger for Maggie, when she doesn't give a flying flip about_ _me._

* * *

Maggie's POV:

I woke up and the sun was shining, but the last thing I remembered was that it had been raining, and I was cold. The rest was fuzzy.

Oh, yes. I had just gotten done yelling at Martha. I don't know why I snapped. I guess it was because I was hungry. And cold. And I was through seeing my sister suffer, but I knew she would never go back, so the only way to stop seeing her suffer was to go back to the god-forsaken place known as St. Horatio's.

But I never made it.

The sun was beating down on me fiercely as I open my eyes and try to adjust to the bright light. Birds were taking flight above my head, but these weren't the ordinary pigeons I had gazed at hungrily every day. These birds were exotic, with bright hues adorning their feathers, and ornate headdresses formed from the plumes upon their head. They didn't coo, but made noises which I had never even heard before, throaty warbles and pitchy flute-like melodies that reminded me of Mother's lullaby Martha would have me sing. There were palm trees, and foliage that I hadn't even dreamed of, lush green leaves soaked with dew, big enough to use as a blanket if I desired. Which I did not, because the heat, which was non-existent the last time I had been awake, was now covering me with such intensity that I had to find some sort of water lest I perish of thirst.

 _Martha._

The thought of my sister entered my head with no warning, and I was slightly surprised, especially since I had nothing nearby which should remind me of her. I whipped my head around, anxiously looking to see if my sister were somehow nearby. I couldn't have gotten to far before…before what I was having a difficult time recalling. From the looks of my surroundings, I couldn't be in London anymore. Perhaps I had been abducted like all of the little girls in the stories the nurses had told us, and my captors put me on drugs so I couldn't escape, and such is the reason why I am seeing the strange birds and plants.

I close my eyes tightly, hoping to ward off any effects that the drugs may be having on my body, but to no avail. They don't diminish in the slightest, and I am left to believe that this is nothing short of reality.

I sit up, my blonde hair falling over my shoulders. I really wanted to cut it, but the nurses only allowed boys to get their hair cut past their shoulders. It was seriously an inconvenience when I wanted to do even the simplest of tasks, because we also weren't allowed to tie it up in any way.

I saw movement in the trees, and my heart froze. This obviously wasn't London, which made this place unfamiliar, and unfamiliar territory brought with it unfamiliar predators. Who knew what fierce jungle creatures could be lurking, waiting to eat me, or carry my cold, dead body to be feasted upon by their children. Wolves? Tigers? Bears? Whatever the beast was, it moved closer and closer, before it broke into the clearing, revealing itself to be…a fox?

There was more than one of them though. There were three creatures scuttling along, trying to hide themselves in the grass, but failing miserably. A fox, a unusually big rabbit (which, despite it's size, I found strange that a fox and a rabbit would be keeping company with each other), and a skunk. I had fondled a skunk only once in my life, and I wasn't able to open my eyes for five days after. I stood up quickly, hoping to find a way of escape before they came any closer.

What stopped me from running was the fact that I could hear their muffled whispers as they tried to sneak up on me.

"Is that Wendy?"

"No, you idiot, Wendy had brown hair."

"What color is that?"

There was a few seconds of silence, followed by, "It's just not Wendy, ok? I know Wendy. Besides, by now what age would she be? Sixteen? That's like, ancient!"

"It's still old enough to be our mother."

"Nibs, she left us, ok? You need to get over the fact that she didn't want to be our mother, and move on."

By now the three creatures were ten feet away, and so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't notice I was watching them the entire time. I also began to notice that these were not talking animals, but actually children in animal skins, or costumes perhaps.

"Did you lose your mother?" I asked, and the three children stood still in fear. I obviously took them by surprise. Did they not know I was here? Weren't they just talking about me a few seconds ago? Perhaps they thought they had better stalking skills. I'm not sure. What I do know is that they started to run away.

"Wait!" I didn't want them to leave. I had just woken up in a strange place, and these were the first sign of human life I had seen since I woke up, even if they were dressed up as animals. I needed them to help me figure out where I was. I was desperate, so I shouted the first thing that came to my mind.

"I'll be your mother!"


End file.
